


Together

by hypnoshatesme



Series: Somebody to Hold [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (or more like 'i'd rather not have a body at all'), Anxiety, Aromantic Gerry, Asexual Michael, Body Dysphoria, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Gender Dysphoria, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, Mental Health Issues, Past Child Abuse, Relationship Negotiation, Trans Gerry, i'll put the relevant tags in the chapter summaries too, mentioned deadnaming, past relationship trauma, suicide ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26372932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypnoshatesme/pseuds/hypnoshatesme
Summary: A collection of one-shots exploring the previously established relationship.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley
Series: Somebody to Hold [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913047
Comments: 2
Kudos: 68





	1. Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chilling at the beach.
> 
> tags: fluff

Michael looked around, taking in the empty streets in the early morning light. "It's so early…"

"I was also impressed to find you out of bed," Gerry teased, shooting him a glance from behind his sunglasses. Gerry had yet to find Michael awake before noon since they arrived. Or he had until this morning.

"Pff!" Michael grinned, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. The air seemed even fresher in the morning quiet, a salty, gentle breeze. "it's so quiet...just the waves…"

Gerry nodded in agreement, looking ahead as the beach started to come into view. There were a couple of people, few and far between. "I bet we’ll have no trouble finding a nice spot." 

As opposed to the day before, when they had arrived after lunch and it had been a struggle to find any free space. It didn’t even look like the same beach today.

"Probably not, but the water will be freezing."

Gerry raised an eyebrow. "After a while it's always nice, in your opinion."

It was true. Michael had probably spent more time in the ocean in the week since they arrived than out of it, apparently unbothered by the cold water. It seemed to be the exception to his usual temperature sensitivity. 

Michael chuckled. "We’ll see."

They found an isolated spot against some rocks and set up their stuff there. As usual, Michael was off to check out the water as soon as he put his towel down. Gerry watched, with a smile, as he tentatively approached the water and flinched back as it touched his feet. It would probably only be a couple minutes until he changed his mind about it and Gerry would look up to see only his head poke out from the water. Gerry settled down on his own towel, closing his eyes against the morning sun, listening to the gentle song of the waves.

Gerry wasn’t quite asleep, but also not fully awake when Michael returned a while later. He noticed because the icy drops of water hitting him when Michael bent over him quickly pulled him out of the hazy state he had apparently been in.

"Gerry, it's great!” Michael said, sounding a little out of breath, but his mouth was pulled into a wide smile as he looked down at Gerry. “You should come to the water."

Gerry chuckled, wiping away one of the drops hitting his cheek. "Why would I when you so  _ graciously _ bring it to me?"

Michael laughed, brushing his hair out of his face, only making more of the water fall with the movement. He looked around, taking in their empty surroundings with a satisfied expression before lowering himself on to Gerry’s towel and, subsequently, Gerry, who hissed when Michael’s cold skin touched his sun-warmed one. Michael pressed his face into the crook of Gerry’s neck, wet hair dripping onto Gerry’s shoulder, making him shiver and bite back a curse because Michael’s nose was always cold, but now it was  _ icy _ against his neck. Michael let out a content sigh, cuddling closer.

Gerry wrapped one arm around his shoulder. "Conformable?" he asked with an amused chuckle.

He felt Michael smile against his skin. "Very."

Gerry hummed and closed his eyes again, feeling himself relax again as his body got used to Michael’s temperature. It didn’t take long before Michael dozed off against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was getting stressed out about writing something coherent when all I wanted was really just...write some disjointed scenes that let me play around with what I set up a bit.  
> So I did that instead. I have like...5 or 6 I think? But I'm not marking the chapter count yet, since who knows if I'll come up with more...we'll see.  
> Most are much longer than this one, some might be shorter...idk. It's messy. Most are definitley less fluffy than this one, I'll update the tags as it goes.
> 
> For now, I hope you enjoy it :)  
> (also as to when I'll be uploading them, your guess is as good as mine. Some still need to be written from scratch. Most are in that barely-english state of existence.)


	2. Mary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gerry rants about Mary
> 
> tags: hurt/comfort, mentioned deadnaming, past child abuse/neglect

Gerry was quiet today. They had taken the long way to his apartment after he picked Michael up from work, but Gerry had barely said a word. He had lit a cigarette as soon as they sat down, occasionally nodding or humming at something Michael was saying, but his eyes were distant, making Michael wonder if he was even hearing him. Something was off.

"Gerry? Are you alright?"

It took a long moment before Gerry reacted, "Hm?"

"If you're feeling okay,” Michael tried, “You seem….absent. Today."

"Oh, yeah, I'm...I’m fine." He sighed after another moment of silence. He looked at the ceiling. "It's...it's my mother's death day. It tends to put me in...moods."

Michael’s eyes went wide. "Oh, I'm...I’m sorry.” 

He didn’t know what to say. Gerry rarely mentioned his mother, so Michael hadn’t been prepared for that answer. He knew, of course. Gerry had told him a little bit when he had explained the Fears and all. Not too much detail, but expression and tone had been enough for Michael not to dare ask. “We...do you want me to go?"

Gerry shook his head. "No, I wanted to meet up. I...I hoped it'd distract me." He sighed, looking at Michael with a sad smile. "Guess it didn't quite work."

Michael hated that expression on his face. Gerry looked so tired. "Do you want to try to talk about it instead?"

Gerry knit his brows. "Talk?"

"Yes."

A moment of silence.

"About what?"

"Your mother?" Michael was starting to sound unsure.

Gerry looked at his cigarette. "I wouldn’t even know where to start…"

Michael watched him for a moment, considering whether he should leave it at this. He decided to ask instead, "What were you thinking about just now?"

Gerry put out his cigarette, looking back at Michael. He hesitated for a moment, before deciding to say, "I...about how she never really gave me a hard time about being trans."

Michael looked surprised. From the little he knew, he hadn’t expected something...positive? Gerry didn’t make it  _ sound _ like it was positive. Michael was confused. "She didn't?"

"My mother didn't care. It didn't disturb my...studies,” a short, dry chuckle, “so she didn't care. Like, she wouldn’t correct herself if she slipped up, but she also didn’t purposefully call me by my old name or anything." He frowned, “Actually...sometimes, when she got really angry...hard to tell if it was on purpose, though.”

Gerry’s resigned tone from before made a bit more sense now. Positive was not a word that’d fit what he was describing. Gerry sounded conflicted and Michael didn’t know what to say. They sat in silence for a moment.

"I sometimes wished she cared,” Gerry ended up saying to break it, voice a whisper, eyes fixed on some point on the wall in front of him. “I know that's horrible, but sometimes I think...I wish it had made her react any which way, good or bad, rather than the glance she barely gave me and the shrug. I know I should be thankful. But...I couldn't help feeling my stomach drop at the utter non-reaction after...after it took me so long to get up the courage…” A sliver of anger made it into his voice as he continued, “If it wasn't in any way connected to those fucking books she was just utterly disinterested."

Michael didn't have the best relationship with his own parents, but what he was hearing was still beyond what he could imagine. Gerry had mentioned Mary's fixation on the Fears, the books. But somehow, Michael had never imagined it being this bad. He was speechless. 

Gerry still wasn't looking at him as he continued, "If I had wanted to go for surgery she probably would have taken issue with it." He shook his head. "Recovery would have forced me to take a break, she wouldn't have had it, I'm sure." He sighed. "Sometimes I wish I had brought it up just to confirm. But I was never fond of hospitals. And I never had too much problem with my body, I'm pretty okay with it. So...as much as part of me wanted to do it out of spite, especially after she gave no sign of even noticing the new piercings, the dye...I didn't." He ran a hand through his hair. "And I'm glad I didn't, because I'm happy with how I am right now. But sometimes…" His voice dropped to a whisper again, equal parts frustrated and sad. "I just wanted her to see me, I guess."

Michael wanted to reach out and pull him into a hug, wanted to somehow make things okay, to un-do what Gerry was telling him because Gerry deserved better. He knew he couldn’t. And Gerry didn't look like he was done yet.

It was a kind of agitated frustration that laced his voice when he continued, eyebrows drawn together, "And its stupid because she would get angry when I slacked with my ‘studies’ and I hated it. I hated when that contempt filled gaze was directed at me." He ran his fingers through his hair roughly, voice wavering. "But...you know, even then, it usually came down to the Fears. I don't think she ever looked at me in any way unrelated to them." 

Gerry took a steadying breath. He could feel the sting of tears but he didn’t want to cry. Mary did not deserve his tears. He wished that would finally get through his thick skull. 

Before the tears could fall, he mumbled, "And I...sometimes I still wish she would have. I know it's silly. I should just be glad. It could have been pretty bad if she hadn't been somewhat accepting."

"I'm not sure you can call that accepting, Gerry," Michael said, voice gentle but a little rough. 

Part of Gerry had forgotten he was there, too caught up in his own mind. He looked at him now, apologetic as he noticed Michael’s shimmering eyes.

"It's better than many get," he mumbled.

Michael drew his eyebrows together. "Doesn't mean you can't still be upset about it." He wished he knew what else to say, how to comfort Gerry. Or at least make him understand that he had the right to feel the way he felt. Michael couldn’t find any words that sounded even close to what he wanted to convey, but he didn’t want to stay silent. "I...it sounds horrible. No wonder you still think of it."

Gerry leaned back into the couch with a sigh. "I guess…." He closed his eyes. He tried for a grin, but it looked tired and strained. "Thanks for listening to my monologue." 

Michael chuckled a little. "You have a lovely voice, I'd never complain about you monologuing." 

He took in Gerry's slumped up form. He looked done. There was still tension in his jaw and shoulders, but he looked utterly exhausted. Michael still didn’t know what to say, if he should say something. He felt like words, no matter which ones, would fall flat. 

"Do you...want a hug?" he asked instead, softly.

Gerry opened his eyes again and looked at him, eyes a little red. He nodded silently and shuffled closer into Michael’s expecting arms. Michael pulled him into his lap, letting Gerry hide his face in his chest as he wrapped his arms around him. Tears finally spilled over as Michael gently caressed his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> realised there's no way to tell which tags belong to which shots so I'll be putting them in chapter summaries, too.


	3. Trusting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As usual, Gerry lets Michael know he's made it home after a job. This time, however, he texts him from the hospital.
> 
> tags: mention of injury, fluff

Michael had been expecting a text from Gerry. He usually told Michael when he was back in London after one of his work trips, let Michael know he made it back in one piece. This time, the message came a little late, and rather than the usual 'I'm back. How's it going?' It read 'Stuck in the hospital. Bring snacks?'. Michael frowned and asked him for details, already making his way into his kitchen.

"You're really here," Michael said in surprise when he finally found the room Gerry had sent him the number of, and Gerry himself behind its door. He was sitting up in one of the hospital beds, leg bandaged. He looked fine otherwise, mostly, tired and a little bruised in some places, but whole. 

"Did you think I was joking?" Gerry looked up at him and grinned. "I assure you that usually I get out as soon as I can. But well, I only came to recently,” he finished with a shrug.

Michael walked towards him, coming to a stop next to the bed, taking him in with a worried expression. He really did look fine, even from up close. It wasn’t that Michael hadn’t believed the message, but more than he wished it weren’t true. It wasn’t uncommon for Gerry to occasionally sprout a new bruise or cut whenever they met up again and Michael always asked what happened, and Gerry always told him, so he _ knew  _ that more severe injuries weren’t too surprising. 

Still, it had never happened that Gerry had texted him from a hospital. It was a shock, despite it not necessarily being entirely surprising. He had never assumed he’d be finding Gerry in the hospital one day. It was a silly assumption to make. As much as Gerry seemed like a constant, unmovable, he was still human and what he did was dangerous. It all felt so much _ realer _ within these white walls.

"What happened?" Michael asked as usual, trying to make the situation feel more familiar, trying to keep his heartbeat from picking up in a panic.

"Let my guard down when I was close to home.” Gerry sighed, looking at his leg and mumbled, “Nasty cut, some scratches...lost a lot of blood by the time I managed to get away. Passed out."

There was a moment of silence as Michael let the words sink in, listening for the suggestion of severity in Gerry’s tone. He sounded a lot more upset than usual, despite him playing things down as he tended to. Michael didn’t dare to imagine how close it must have been for Gerry to sound like this. 

He sat down on the bed, one hand gently running over Gerry’s hair, down his face, whispering, "Gerry…"

Gerry closed his eyes with a sigh. "I'm okay."

"But you could not be," Michael mumbled, thumb carefully following a shallow cut along his cheek. The words came out heavier than intended, the anxiety he felt about Gerry’s safety every time his research turned to the actual hunting solidifying into words that rang too true. And Michael knew, had known that before, but something about being _ here _ made it more intense and Michael could feel the sting of tears in his eyes.

Gerry shrugged, lips pulling into a small grin as his eyes met Michael’s. "Did you bring food?"

Michael had to chuckle. It came out a little choked, but it was enough to make Gerry’s grin wider. 

"I have," Michael said, getting out the bag he had brought with him and passing it on to Gerry. “It’s just whatever I had home.”

“That’s fine.” Gerry gave him a smile before going through the snacks.

Michael eventually ate, too, after Gerry insisted. It calmed his nerves and they sat in silence for a little while, eating.

"When can you go?" Michael asked after a moment.

Gerry shrugged. "Now, I assume."

Michael raised an eyebrow. “You assume?”

“Nurse said everything looked fine. I feel fine.”

Michael shook his head, getting up from the bed. “I’ll ask.”

Gerry watched him leave the room with a sigh, leaning back into the bed. He had considered just sneaking out before telling Michael, keeping the whole stay from him to avoid worrying him, avoid the stress. Part of him regretted not doing so after he saw Michael’s expression earlier. But in the end he knew it had worried him just as much if Gerry had waited even longer to text him. Gerry also didn’t want to lie to him. Michael deserved better than that.

Michael returned a little later with the assurance that Gerry was indeed good to go. He helped Gerry up carefully. Putting weight on his leg wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't impossible, either. Michael still eyed him like he might be hiding the pain.

"Who's going to help you while you heal?"

Gerry raised an eyebrow. "I can take care of myself, Michael."

He frowned. "Not if I have a saying in it."

"Oh, and you do?" The grin was back on Gerry’s lips.

"I did bring you snacks." Michael was grinning, too, now, though there was still the shadow of concern in his eyes.

Gerry huffed out a laugh. "Which I guess shows I can trust you with my life."

"Of course you can." Michael checked again that the nurse was gone before leaning in and pressing his lips to Gerry’s forehead.


	4. Painting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gerry has a new idea for spending their time together.
> 
> tags: anxiety, fluff

Michael wasn’t really sure what Gerry was planning for today. The message had specified to wear something old and Michael couldn’t think of anything that would warrant that. He was a little nervous as he waited for the door to open. Nervous or curious. Excited? Michael couldn’t quite tell. It all just felt like anxiety.

The door finally opened and the familiarity of Gerry’s welcoming smile took off the edge, making Michael relax as he returned the smile.

Gerry stepped to the side, waving him inside. He closed the door behind them and looked at Michael, taking him in with a smile. “How are you?”

Michael returned his gaze with a smile of his own. It had been a while since they had managed to meet up in person and Michael was always struck with how  _ happy _ he felt seeing Gerry. Sometimes it could be overwhelming. Or maybe it was just getting more every time. Whichever it was, Michael loved that feeling. It made it difficult to stop smiling.

“I’m a little confused about your...instructions, otherwise I’m fine.” He grinned. “You?”

“Good, thanks.” He sounded amused, gaze making it clear that Michael wouldn’t be getting any further detail on the instructions yet.

“Can I hug you?” Michael decided to ask, instead, satisfied by the brief moment of confusion on Gerry's face when he didn’t further inquire about what they were going to do.

“Sure.” Gerry pulled him into a short hug before pulling back again. “Not in a very cuddly mood today, though, okay?”

“Oh, you...you didn’t have to-”

“Nah, that was okay." He shrugged and smiled. "Just wanted you to know.” 

Especially in the beginning Michael had struggled with such instances. Rationally, he knew it wasn’t personal. Michael, while clingy most of the time, had phases where he just wasn’t up for being too close, for touching much at all. It never had anything to do with Gerry. 

So Gerry having days where he didn’t feel like cuddling wasn’t a surprise, but somehow, it was still difficult for Michael to not panic at first, trying to find whatever he did wrong. Even when they both weren’t particularly feeling like it, Michael still struggled to keep himself from overthinking it. It didn’t have anything to do with touching itself, obviously. It was the prospect of rejection - even when he was being rejected for something he didn’t really want himself in that moment - that made his chest tighten unpleasantly as his mind started listing all the wrongs he did to deserve this, how it was only the beginning of more rejection, how he should get used to it, should leave Gerry be because he was clearly getting tired of him.

It had taken time and a lot of reassurance - Michael had no idea how Gerry hadn’t lost patience with him yet - until he managed to not spiral the moment Gerry uttered those words. There was usually still a short surge of the old panic, but Michael had figured out by now how to get it under control again, how to breathe and think of all the times he had been told that it’s okay, that it wasn’t because of  _ him _ . He believed it, he did, but he had to actively remind himself of it on such occasions. 

That’s why it took a moment before he nodded. “Okay.” Gerry gave him a proud smile, and Michael blushed, not used to such an expression being directed at him. “So...what...what’s the matter with the, uh...clothes?”

Gerry’s lips pulled into a grin. “We’re painting.”

Michael looked at him like he was expecting him to be joking, but Gerry was already moving further into the apartment. “We’re...what?”

“You remember me talking about wanting to try it out? And you said I should just go for it?” Gerry turned around to see Michael was still standing by the door, a dumbfounded expression on his face that made Gerry laugh. “Come in.”

Michael did, following him hesitantly. “I remember, yes, I...but I didn’t mean- Gerry, I have no idea how to paint.”

“Neither do I.” He shrugged. “This is really just to get a feeling for it.”

“You at least know how to draw. I have no artistic talent,” Michael insisted.

“Who told you I’m going for artistic talent?” Gerry said, coming to a stop next to the small dining table, on which everything was already set up; canvas, brushed and paint on top of the newspaper-covered table. He looked at Michael with a smile. “I just thought this might be more fun together.”

Michael knit his brows. “But-”

“Give it a try, okay? If you hate it, we’ll stop and do something else.” Gerry grinned before adding, “Or you can watch, since you like that so much.”

Michael blushed at that. It had become obvious very quickly that Michael rather enjoyed watching Gerry draw. It was calming, watching the smooth movements of Gerry’s hand across the paper, watching the picture come together in comfortable silence. 

Gerry had found the transfixed state it seemed to put Michael into rather endearing and liked teasing him with it. Michael had been a blushing mess the first time Gerry pointed it out. It wasn’t that bad by now, but Gerry still liked reminding him of the fact that he knew.

“I still don’t think-” Michael stopped when Gerry looked like he was about to interrupt, probably telling him he was overthinking. And Gerry was probably right. Gerry wasn’t going to back down from this idea, apparently. Well, Michael guessed it would be Gerry’s fault if the end result ended up being ugly. He sighed, “Okay, fine.”

Michael was still staring at the canvas like it was an overwhelming puzzle. Gerry had already started bringing the brush to it, trying to get a feeling for the brush in his hand, for how different it was to holding a pen, how it reacted if he pressed down more or less, how much paint was too much or too little. He had kept mostly to his side of the canvas, so Michael still had plenty of empty space to stare at.

He chuckled, “Michael, just try it out.”

Michael glanced at Gerry’s side and sighed. “Gerry, it...it’s looking good, I will just...I will just make it look bad-”

“What do you mean, it’s looking good? I’ve literally just been randomly layering brush strokes on top of each other. It looks like a mess, and that’s okay.” Gerry looked up at him and smiled encouragingly. “Come on, this is really just meant to be fun, don’t worry so much about making it ‘bad’. Even if that were a thing, I don’t care.” 

Michael bit his lip nervously, “I don’t...I’m just, I never...I haven’t done anything like this since school-”

“And I never had until just now.” He shrugged. “It’s okay. This is just meant to be fun.”

Tentatively, Michael took one of the brushes. He gave Gerry another uncertain look before he carefully left a light blue line on his side. 

He scowled at it and Gerry chuckled, “That bad?”

Michael pursed his lips. “It’s so...light.”

“Press down more. Or take more paint.”Gerry grinned. “That’s what I meant by trying it out, you know?”

Michael sighed, but nodded and tried again.

Slowly but surely, Michael started to get a little more comfortable with his brushstrokes and, soon enough, they were both painting and chatting. When Gerry looked up to throw a glance at Michael, he had a relaxed smile on his lips, not unlike he looked watching Gerry draw sometimes. Gerry had to smile, until something cold against his hand made him make a confused noise, looking back down. His thumb had a pink streak across it.

Gerry raised an eyebrow. “Did you miss the canvas?”

Michael grinned mischievously. “You were getting on my side.”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware we were being so  _ strict _ about it.” Gerry returned the grin equally and brought his brush across Michael’s knuckles, painting them orange. Michael giggled and tried to get back at him with his own brush, but Gerry leaned out of his way. So instead, he flicked some of the paint from his brush across the table, hitting Gerry’s jaw. Their eyes met for a moment and they grinned widely, before they both moved forward, trying to paint the other.

The table - and partly the floor - was a mess by the time they slumped back into their chairs, still laughing from their little paint fight. They were a little out of breath as they looked at the canvas, also stained with random specks of multiple paints that had missed their original target. Michael chuckled at how, despite how messy it ended up looking, he still thought it looked quite nice. But maybe that was because it had been fun. He looked up at Gerry, who was grinning at him, eyes bright.

“There’s a bit of purple in your hair,” he said, nodding towards a curl resting on Michael’s shoulder.

Michael looked to the side, but the movement only made it slide off his shoulder and out of his sight. “Does it look good?”

Gerry raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Uh, sure.”

“Maybe I should consider dyeing it.” Michael looked back at him with a grin. “Your left eyebrow looks quite good in yellow.”

Gerry looked confused for a moment before bursting into laughter. Michael chuckled.


	5. Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael has a bad day. Gerry (kinda) knows what to do.
> 
> tags: body dysphoria (kind of? more like 'i don't think I want to be corporal at all'), implied/mentioned transphobia, mentioned gender dysphoria, fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Body by Mother Mother gently playing in the background*

Michael had moved directly to Gerry’s couch when latter let him in. It was rare for them to meet up after Michael’s work, but they hadn’t managed to set up anything else in the upcoming weeks, and both hadn’t really wanted to wait much longer since Gerry might be out of town by then again, depending on where research lead him this time. So Michael had suggested a friday, which meant there was no problem with it getting late, but also meant that it was the end of the week and he was probably exhausted. 

Gerry followed him to the couch and Michael laid down, burying his face in Gerry’s lap with a sigh. It sounded tired, but also irritated, and Gerry brushed his hair to the side before starting to gently rub circles into the base of his neck. Michael sighed again, but this time it sounded like the appreciative kind.

“Tough day?” Gerry asked as he felt Michael slowly relax.

“No...not really. I...just kind of woke up like this.” Michael mumbled, craning his neck as Gerry pressed down a little harder, making him sigh again.

“In a bad mood?”

“Somewhat…” Michael started playing with his own hair, hesitating for a moment before adding, “Sometimes I just wake up wishing I didn’t have a body, you know?”

Gerry ran his knuckles over Michael’s shoulder, making him hum. “Then I couldn’t be doing this.”

“I wouldn’t have a sore back then, either,” Michael chuckled, though he still sounded distant.

It seemed like Michael’s mood wasn’t going to lift with Gerry joking. Maybe he needed some space to feel comfortable talking through it. That happened, sometimes. Michael rarely talked about whatever was bothering him unless asked, or given a bit of silence as an opportunity. 

Gerry decided to just settle for, “True.”

Silence settled, only interrupted by Michael’s occasional sighing as Gerry continued his massaging. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but Gerry could still sense that Michael felt tense. He could never tell if he should push or not in those instances. Gerry wasn’t very patient, but he also didn’t want to seem pushy. He didn’t even know if Michael  _ wanted _ to talk about it. Though clearly he wasn’t in the mood to give into distraction. But maybe he just wanted to wallow in his thoughts for a while. Gerry wished he could tell which one it was. He decided to just wait for a little longer, continuing with what he was doing.

“I just...it...feels wrong, some days,” Michael eventually mumbled hesitantly.

“Your body?” Gerry asked, thumb rubbing circles into the spot behind Michael’s left ear.

Michael thought about it for a moment, leaning into the touch. It didn’t quite seem like what he meant, but Michael had always struggled with pinpointing whatever his problem exactly was. That’s why he usually didn’t talk about it. It made him feel silly, yet another vague thing that bothered him without him really being able to tell what exactly it was, or why. Though then again, Gerry kept reminding him of how he didn’t need to understand to be upset about something. That didn’t change the fact that Michael would like to try and explain it, but couldn’t find words that felt appropriate.

“Having one,” he decided to correct at first. That sounded closer to what he felt. “It’s nothing...specific? Like, sure, some...I dislike a lot of details about myself but…sometimes I just...can’t...look in the mirror. At...at the whole? It feels wrong. It’s...not me? I hate- hate looking at…it.” He furrowed his brows. This still didn’t sound accurate. “I just feel...uncomfortable,” he decided to settle on, letting out a weary sigh.

Gerry took his time to process that. Michael sounded unsatisfied with his explanation, as he usually did, but Gerry felt like he was at least getting a broad idea. The sentiment didn’t sound completely foreign.

“Hm…” Gerry wrapped a curl around his finger. “I think I...understand. A little. Sometimes…I feel similarly. Not...not as bad, I guess.” 

He closed his eyes. Gerry didn’t like lingering on such moments in thought much. It always made him wonder how much it was himself finding issues with his body and how much it was him being told, or at least obviously made aware of, how most others thought that. It had been worse when he was younger. It had taken a lot of spite to resist the urge to make people stop looking at him like that, stop making them treat him the wrong way. To not change himself for others when he personally felt fine as he was. He had a better grip on it nowadays, but the moments of doubt never really stopped and it was difficult to tell their source sometimes.

“You...do?” Michael sounded surprised.

Gerry shrugged. “It doesn’t quite sound like the same but...I think I still get it. A little.”

Michael moved his head to the side, trying to look at Gerry from the corner of his eye. “What do you...how do you make it stop?”

“I...honestly, I usually just wait for it to pass. I know how to talk myself down from feeling anxious about my body by now. It doesn’t happen that often, I...I don’t know.” Gerry ran a hand through Michael’s hair. “Sometimes it helps to put on something I feel good in, I guess. Comfort clothes, in a way.”

Michael sighed, burying his face back in Gerry’s thigh, "I don't feel good in anything then."

"Maybe you need to go shopping then," Gerry said, half-jokingly.

Michael chuckled, "I don’t know...I dont know." He sighed as Gerry worked on a particularly tense spot in his shoulder. "I’m sorry I'm moping."

"It’s okay." Gerry squeezed his shoulder for a moment. "Do you want to move to bed? I can do this better there.” Michael nodded, slowly sitting up. He still looked uncomfortable. “Maybe we can find something you feel okay in in my closet." Gerry joked, smoothing his hair.

"Maybe I do need black. To reflect my sour mood." Michael gave him a tired grin.

Gerry chuckled and helped him up from the couch, "That's the spirit."

They spent the rest of the evening in Gerry’s room even after Michael’s back stopped feeling sore and they had found something for him to wear that seemed to help a little. The bed was comfortable and neither saw the point of getting up again when they could very well lay there in silence or occasional chatter, sometimes a hand running down the other’s arm, sometimes not touching but still close enough to feel the other’s presence.

As evening turned to night, Gerry set up the spare mattress next to his bed and Michael moved to it, burying himself in the blanket despite the huge sweater Gerry had given him already keeping him warm enough. A nice extra to how utterly formless it made Michael feel, indistinct. Like he might as well not have a body. He liked it.

Michael was still wondering about Gerry owning such a thing. If it was this big on Michael, how big would it be on Gerry? It was rare to see Gerry in anything with sleeves, so it was difficult to imagine him drowning in one of his own sweaters. The fact that he looked like that when he put Michael’s clothes on made sense. But that always looked extra wrong anyways, because even if Gerry occasionally wore non-black, it was never anything that strayed too far from the darkest shades of that colour. So seeing him in something light was stranger than the fact that it was covering his arms. 

Michael hid his hands in the too-long sleeves and mumbled, "You fit in here twice at least."

Gerry chuckled, getting comfortable in bed. "Sometimes I like drowning in fabric"

Michael raised an eyebrow, surprised. "That's news to me." 

“Usually I’m at home and lonely, then.” Gerry mumbled, clearly not intending on elaborating. He was starting to get a little more comfortable opening up, but Gerry still liked to keep his darker hours to himself, if he could. This wasn't about him anyways, but Michael. He leaned his head to the side. His bed was low enough for him to catch a glimpse of Michael huddled in the blanket. He did look a little better than when he arrived. More comfortable. Gerry smiled. “But yeah, that one’s a bit much. You can keep it, if you want.”

“I can’t accept that!”

Gerry raised an eyebrow, propping himself up on his elbow. “Why not? You gave me that light blue one a while ago.”

“That was different. It got really cold and you looked really cosy in it.”

“You’re looking really comfortable in that one. And I like wearing yours when I’m feeling like...that, by now. I don’t wear this one too much anymore.” He gave Michael an encouraging smile. “Really, you can have it.”

Michael hesitated before nodding, “Okay, then.” He smiled. “I’m glad you liked the blue one. It looks very good on you.”

“I love it.” Gerry let himself fall back onto his back with a sigh. “Your clothes are the softest.”

Michael knit his brows in confusion. “That...probably has more to do with the washing machine.”

“No, it’s because they’re yours.” A grin was tugging at Gerry’s lips.

Michael chuckled. “If it makes you happy to think that, sure.”

Gerry closed his eyes. “Thinking about you does make me happy.”

“Oh...I-” Michael felt the heat rise to his face. Gerry always gave out compliments so casually, it took Michael by surprise every time. What was he even supposed to say to that? He decided to settle on the truth. “I...feel the same.”

Gerry chuckled, his own cheeks flushed a light pink. “We should sleep.”

Michael smiled. “We should.” 

He sat back up and Gerry followed suit, bending down to press a kiss to Michael’s waiting cheek. “Good night.”

Michael took his hand and squeezed it gently. “Sleep well.”

Gerry hummed and laid back down, getting comfortable. Michael did the same, only letting go of Gerry’s hand when they were both comfortable.


	6. Sunflowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day out, and its aftermath.
> 
> tags: uhhh...past relationship trauma?

They usually met up in one of their apartments, but not always, sometimes opting for taking a walk. Most of the time they went for the park or something equally quiet, but Michael actually enjoyed going downtown with Gerry a lot more than when he did so on his own. They never had anywhere in particular to go and just strolled through the streets, looking at the shop windows, chatting. 

There was rarely interest in what was actually in those windows, making it a lot more obvious when Michael’s eyes did linger on one of them today. As far as Gerry could tell, his eyes were trained on a dress, long and flowy with sunflowers printed on white. They hadn’t stopped, but Michael had slowed his step as he looked at it.

"Do you want to try it on?" Gerry asked, squeezing Michael’s hand slightly.

Michael shook his head with a sigh, “I’d lack the confidence to wear it.”

“At home, too?”

He chuckled, “That’d be quite a lot of money for something to only wear at home.”

Gerry raised an eyebrow at that, but did not insist, letting Michael pull him along as they continued their walk.

They passed the same store on their way back and, again, Michael’s eyes felt drawn to the same dress. This time Gerry stopped, pulling Michael to a stop, too. He gave him a confused look as Gerry walked towards the entry.

“Try it on. Then decide whether you consider it a waste of money.”

Michael sighed, but didn’t protest.

“How is it?” Gerry asked when the shuffling behind the curtain stopped.

“I’m...not sure.”

Well, that at least wasn’t a ‘no’. “Can I look?”

Michael hesitated a moment, before pulling the curtain back a little, only enough to beckon Gerry closer. He did, using the little gap Michael had made to look without having to open the curtain any further. Michael probably would have done so himself if he wanted. He was looking at Gerry with an uncertain expression. One that Gerry considered rather unnecessary as he looked him over. Michael looked great, despite the fabric looking a little tight around the shoulder area.

Gerry gave him a smile. “It looks good, don’t you think?” 

Michael turned around to look at the mirror, smoothing the skirt and turning a little to look at it from different angles. He _ liked _ it. The dress was lovely and comfortable, and, surprisingly, Michael didn’t completely hate seeing it on himself. Though it was quite obvious that it wasn’t made for him. It didn’t really fit him, at least not the top. 

He sighed. “It’s lovely.”

Gerry knit his brows. “You sound disappointed about that.”

“Well, I’m still not going to get it. I’d still not wear it. It doesn’t even fit.” He pulled at the short sleeves that were cutting off his blood flow. 

“Nothing store bought ever fits anyone, Michael.”

Michael shook his head, mumbling to himself, “Maybe if it’d be only the skirt…” He shrugged, turning around again. “Well, I guess it was to be expected.”

Gerry sighed. “Worth a try.”

Michael nodded with a smile. “Sure, thanks.”

He waited for Gerry to close the curtain again before changing back into his own clothes.

They were back in Michael’s apartment, still sitting at the table even after dinner. Michael was thinking back to earlier, to walking the streets with Gerry’s hand in his own. It hadn’t been the first time, but something about it seemed to set Michael off now. He frowned.

“Still thinking about that dress?”

Michael blinked, confused. “Hm?”

“You looked...upset? Was wondering if you’re already regretting not getting that dress.” Gerry gave him a teasing smile, but there was genuine concern in his eyes. Michael had looked fine a moment ago and they had just been sitting in silence, so whatever it was that made his face drop had a high probability of being something he was overthinking. Gerry  _ wished  _ it were the dress instead.

Michael shook his head slowly, the crease between his brows only deepening as he tried to put his finger on what it was that was bothering him.

"I think…” He hesitated a moment, before saying, “I didn’t...like? Holding hands...outside."

Michael’s voice went a little high at the end, so Gerry tried to keep his extra calm as he spoke, "Earlier?"

He nodded, expression one of guilt, a sliver of panic in his voice. "I'm sorry, I didn’t...I didn’t feel like that then-"

"No, no, it's okay.” Gerry shrugged. “Maybe it was because it was so busy. I know you don't like PDA much. Maybe it just was too much today."

Michael was barely hearing him anymore, his mind whirring with memories of him just suddenly stopping enjoying what had been perfectly fine before, the disappointment and annoyance on his partner’s face when he got up the courage to tell them. The sceptical look when Michael would sometimes just randomly like whatever it was again, even if only for a short moment. Maybe he was doing it again, falling back into bad, tiring habits even though everything had been going so well until now. If that was the case, Gerry had to know, deserved to be able to move on before it all got too much to deal with. 

Michael felt a lump in his throat when he spoke, "I...I don't know I...maybe I just...don’t like it anymore? It...it used to happen and I-I’m...I’m sorry, I-"

"Michael it's okay, no need to freak out.” Gerry took Michael’s hands that he was twisting and wringing in front of him. He squeezed them between his and waited until Michael’s breathing calmed down again. “If that's the case, that's fine too." Michael looked at him, eyes uncertain. "We don't hold hands much outside anyways and we have not lost each other yet. I think we can manage." He grinned softly.

"I...okay." He still sounded unsure and Gerry decided to try a different approach. His expression went serious again and Michael looked like he was readying himself for a blow. It hurt to look at, but Gerry hoped it would help Michael understand he meant it.

"You know I don't mind holding hands, but it's not a necessity. If you want to hold hands outside again at some point, you'll tell me. If you don't want to do that ever again that's perfectly okay, too." He squeezed Michael’s hands again for good measure, looking into his eyes, searching for something that’d show he understood.

Michael gave a slow nod, clearly still processing the words. He looked shocked. Gerry would be surprised if he hadn't learned that a lot of things that seemed perfectly reasonable to himself were utterly outlandish to Michael. Sometimes Gerry wondered what had happened to leave him like this. He knew, broadly, but not the details that had left Michael scarred. Gerry wasn’t sure he actually wanted to know them. Michael seemed to be in no hurry to talk about it and Gerry didn't push.

He ran his thumbs over the backs of Michael’s hands. "If you start panicking again, tell me. I'll remind you of what I just said. Alright?"

"O...Okay." Michael gave a last, less hesitant nod. 

They stayed like that for a moment, just looking at each other. One of the tears had escaped Michael’s eye at some point and had left a wet trail down his cheek. Gerry let go of his hands and leaned forward to wipe it away.

Gerry smiled at Michael’s surprised expression. "How about we clean up here and move to the living room?"

Michael nodded again, lips pulling into a small smile.


	7. Hickeys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another one of them just conversing.
> 
> tags: ...mostly dialogue? some relationship negociation

Gerry's head was in his lap by now, neck craned to look at the TV. Today had been one of their cooking hang-outs and they managed not to burn anything for once. Michael for some reason seemed to lose some of his cooking skill when cooking with Gerry. He usually wasn’t one to burn food. Gerry was, but it was always difficult to tell whose fault the burnt food was. Not that it mattered, especially not today, where everything had turned out perfectly tasty. Maybe they were starting to get a hang on working together in the kitchen.

Michael was running his fingers through Gerry’s hair, brushing it out of his neck. He had noticed the bruise before when they had been cooking, but without the hair covering it it looked much starker, even against Gerry’s somewhat-tan skin. 

To Michael’s surprise - and confusion - Gerry had asked him a while ago if he would mind Gerry sleeping with people.

“ _ Why...would I mind?”  _

_ Gerry shrugged. “Just making sure.” _

_ He didn’t mind not putting any labels on their relationship, but he did want to make sure they were on the same page. Michael was getting better at expressing what he did and did not want. Gerry felt like he should finally ask about what he had been wondering for a while now. _

_ Michael watched him curiously, but Gerry’s expression was unreadable. “Would you just...stop if I said it did?” _

_ “Probably?” Gerry grinned at him. “I do like your company, Michael, so if it’d bother you-” _

_ “It doesn’t,” Michael had interrupted, feeling his face heat up at the casual compliment. _

_ Gerry raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure?” _

_ He still remembered Michael talking about how his asexuality had been a major anxiety in his last relationship, so he was a little worried he was just agreeing to soothe that worry rather than because he actually felt fine with it.  _

_ Michael nodded with as much confidence as he could muster. He couldn’t imagine it bothering him, at least. Why would it? It didn’t change anything between them, as far as Michael could see. _

_ Gerry still looked unsure. “Well, if you change your mind…” _

_ Michael smiled. “I’ll let you know.” _

He hadn’t changed his mind since and, as far as he could tell, nothing felt any different. He didn’t ask about Gerry’s hookups and Gerry didn’t talk about them either - unless there had been some entertaining conversation going on before - and Michael was fine with that. Usually it was impossible to tell if he’d had one or not, and Michael didn’t really care. 

The hickey made it a little more obvious and Michael traced it pensively, wondering if Gerry felt it the way Michael often felt a bruise even after the initial pain had faded. It sounded inconvenient, if that were the case. Michael gently pressed down on it, expecting a hiss or something similar. Gerry only hummed. 

"Doesn't it hurt?" Michael asked, curiously.

Gerry turned around, looking up at Michael. "Hm?"

"The hickey," Michael clarified, "If it bothers you."

It took another moment before Gerry answered, shrugging. "Why would it? It's just another bruise with a more pleasant source, really."

Michael drew his eyebrows up together sceptically. "Pleasant?"

Gerry grinned. "Well, it wouldn’t be pleasant for  _ you _ , considering you already find kisses gross."

"I don't find  _ kisses _ gross," Michael said and took Gerry's hand, pressing a kiss to one of the eyes on his knuckles, giving him a pointed look. "Just wet ones."

Gerry laughed and pet Michael’s cheek. "I don't believe you can suck a bruise into somebody’s neck  _ dryly _ , Michael."

Michael blushed furiously. "I know! I'm just saying-"

"I know, I know. Just teasing." Gerry snickered and pulled Michael’s hand towards him, pressing a small kiss to his wrist. As cute as Michael looked like that, face all red and flustered, Gerry didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable. It was a fine line, sometimes.

"How was your week?" Gerry decided to ask, giving Michael the opportunity to change the subject if he’d rather do so. They hadn’t really talked a lot about anything unrelated to cooking earlier. Maybe that was what had made it work out so well.

Michael gave a small, grateful smile. "Good, thank you. How was your work trip?” He squeezed Gerry’s hand. “You at least look less scratched up than last time you were gone."

Gerry grinned up at him. "It went smoothly, yes."


	8. Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Michael reveals some deeper lying problems and Gerry realises some of his own.
> 
> tags: suicide ideation, mental breakdown, mental health relapse, mention of past negative experiences with mental health professionals, mention of (assumed) hallucinations...do tell me if i forgot something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a heads up: it's not very detailed, but do skip this one if you feel like you're not in the mental space to read about this kind of stuff! The next (and last) chapter is pure fluff and will be out on the 24th :)
> 
> Take care of yourself.

While Michael had always been a bit shy on the talking in person side, he usually had a much easier time texting. It was rare that a day would pass without him sending Gerry one thing or another, sometimes just a ‘how are you?’ sometimes just whatever was going through his mind, recounting interesting conversations he had at work or thoughts on the book he was reading, or something like that. 

Gerry liked that. He felt like Michael was there, even if he was out of London or hadn’t seen him in a while. It was nice to lay in bed before sleep and answer the messages he didn’t get to throughout the day, chat with Michael a little while, who usually was on his phone around that time, too. It made him feel less lonely on those nights Gerry’s mind would get hung up on that. Michael had told him he felt the same, which somehow had made Gerry feel even better about that whole arrangement.

Despite it being a regular occurance, he didn’t think too much about it when Michael went silent for a day, two days. Some days were just busy and Gerry assumed Michael might just be having a busy week, considering there was no message the next day either. Or the next. Gerry sent one, then, just inquiring if everything was alright. Something quick to answer in case Michael would still be busy the next day.

At lunch the following day Gerry checked and there was still nothing from Michael. He was trying to tell himself Michael just needed a break, was busy, but it was undeniable that he was starting to worry. It wasn’t like Michael at all to go completely silent for a whole week, not after nearly never missing a day of texting. Not that Gerry would  _ mind _ if Michael wanted to take a break, it just seemed unlike him to do so without any notice. Gerry could feel the prickle of paranoia as his mind started to come up with mostly horrible explanations for this, many involving Michael being harmed. He had hit the call button before realising what he was doing.

It rang for so long, Gerry was about to give up when the call was finally picked up and Michael’s worried voice spoke up, “Gerry? Is everything okay?”

The relief Gerry felt at the sound of his voice stunned him into silence for a moment. Michael sounded tired, but not in pain, not like he was hurting. Still, Gerry wanted to make sure. 

“Yes, Michael, I...I was going to ask you the same?” He hoped the slight shaking of his voice wasn’t noticeable through the phone. He really had to calm down.

“Me?” Michael sounded surprised, but also strangely on edge. His voice sounded distant when he continued, “I...I’m fine, why?”

Gerry frowned, trying to put his finger on what he was hearing in Michael’s voice. “You...I didn’t hear from you this week. You...didn’t react to my texts.” Gerry cringed as he said it. He was making it sound like Michael owed him answers, which he didn’t. This whole call would probably end up being embarrassing. He was probably just overthinking. Maybe Michael just hadn’t been in the mood to text. And Gerry ended up calling him, demanding he do so. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like that, I just...I...I was worried?” 

It took a long moment before Michael reacted. “Oh, I...I’m sorry, I-I read them bu...but I...forgot. To answer.”

Something sounded off, still. Too monotone and somehow on the edge of panic at the same time. Like he wasn’t really there.

Gerry went for the gentlest tone he could manage with his mind whirring, trying to pinpoint what was wrong, “Are you sure you’re okay, Michael?”

The pause that followed was so long Gerry wondered if Michael would just not answer to that at all. If it weren’t for the sniff, he might have even considered Michael having ended the call. He sounded so very close to tears when he spoke up again, “...No.”

Gerry froze. He had never heard Michael sound like that, voice so small, so broken, crestfallen. 

His grip on the phone tightened, but he tried to keep his voice soft, “Do you want me to come over?”

Another pause and Gerry was afraid he’d fucked up. But Michael did answer after a moment, still barely whispering, “I...maybe?”

Gerry gave a firm nod, before remembering Michael couldn’t see him and adding, “Okay, I’ll hurry up.”

It still took longer than Gerry would’ve liked for him to get to Michael’s apartment. He was panting by the time he finally got to the door, but he didn’t want to waste more time and walked up the stairs to Michael’s door quickly. Michael was waiting for him, looking through the small gap of the slightly open door as usual. Somehow, it didn’t really calm Gerry to see that. He couldn’t stop thinking of the sound of his voice on the phone.

Michael let him in silently and closed the door behind them. Gerry turned around to look at him, to greet him. “Michael-” He was struck by the tears starting to fall down Michael’s face, the sobs suddenly making him shake. Michael hid his face in his shaking hands and Gerry took a moment to snap out of the initial shock of seeing him go from neutral to this so quickly. He gently reached out, then, barely brushing Michael’s arm, voice gentle, “Hey...let's sit down."

Michael nodded and let Gerry lead him to the couch, crying all the while. Gerry sat down next to him, unsure whether he wanted space or comfort. He knew what  _ he _ wanted. He wanted to hold Michael through whatever this was, hold him until he was calm again. But he couldn’t tell if Michael would want that right now. Gerry had seen him cry before, but never like this, never this violently. He didn’t know what to  _ do _ .

“I-do you...want to come closer?” he asked tentatively, sure Michael couldn’t hear him over his own sobs. But Michael shook his head.

“Please-” A sob interrupted him, and Michael swallowed before trying again, “Please s...stay.”

Gerry did, though his whole body was itching to move, to do something, to make this better. But he didn’t know what ‘this’ was and Michael just kept crying and Gerry had to watch and listen because Michael had told him he didn’t want him closer. It felt like the longest minutes of his life passed, then, and by the time Michael moved closer and pressed his head into Gerry’s shoulder, Gerry felt like crying himself. He felt  _ helpless _ . Gerry hated feeling helpless.

He wrapped his arms around Michael, squeezing him gently. Michael let himself fall into Gerry’s arms at that, a new surge of sobs leaving his throat and Gerry rubbed his back, held him close. Doing something didn’t feel much better considering Michael just seemed to cry more. But he didn’t push Gerry away and so Gerry kept him close, smoothed his hair. 

Michael had clasped his arm at some point and Gerry could feel the nails digging into his skin, but he didn’t say anything. He held him silently, not knowing what to say - if saying something was even a good idea - trying to be there, to be calming even though his own heart was racing trying to understand this whole situation. What had put Michael in such a state? What happened?

More minutes passed, and they still felt like they stretched on forever, and Michael was starting to breathe normally again, sobs subsiding into the occasional hiccup, hands loosening their grip on Gerry’s arm. He was still shaking and Gerry could still feel warm tears seeping into his shoulder, so he didn’t move. He kept his calming motions on Michael’s back and waited, for what he didn’t know. He was holding his breath. 

Michael shifted after another while and Gerry loosened his grip so he could sit up. He was wiping his face on his hands and Gerry found his hand going automatically to his pocket, pulling out a pack of tissues and pressing one into Michael’s hand. He gave him a grateful nod before continuing to clean his face that was red from crying and looked  _ so _ tired.

"Do you feel...better?" Gerry finally dared to ask. His voice was raspy. 

Michael nodded slowly, brushing his hair out of his damp face.

"Do you...want to tell me what...happened?" Gerry tried.

Michael didn’t even know where to start. Part of him didn’t want to talk about it at all. But Gerry had to know if Michael was back at it again. He bit his lip, looking at his hands in his lap. “I...I have just been feeling...down. Worse than it had been in years, I...it was okay for a while? But-but for some reason...i don't know why...this week it's been so bad again." 

Gerry furrowed his brows, unsure what Michael meant, exactly. “Bad?”

Michael closed his eyes. "I wake up every morning and wish I hadn't. Any minor inconvenience at work makes me regret I never had the stomach to just end it when I was at my lowest the last time. At night…" He took a shuddering breath, shaking his head. "It's...I've been all over the place because of it, I’m...it’s disorienting to drop so low after having been doing so well."

‘Well’ was probably not the right word, really. It had never stopped being at the back of his mind, would be there to greet him in the morning and keep him from sleep at night, make him wish for a more final kind of sleep. But it had been fleeting, Michael would just go on with his life with little problem, brushing the thoughts off without much trouble. It had been years since the thoughts had been this loud, so strong, kept intruding whenever he tried to pretend they weren’t there. Since they had made living difficult.

“You...you were doing...better?” Gerry had known Michael had his problems, it was quite hard not to notice the anxiety. And maybe Gerry had been somewhat sure it didn’t just end there, that it went deeper. Still, he had never thought it was this bad.

Michael looked at him, expression one of guilt. “I’m sorry I never told you, I just...I thought I had finally found a way to...deal with it. I didn’t want to bother you with it if it...well, if I managed to fix it.” He sighed. It had been silly of him to assume he wouldn’t fall back. It still hurt. He looked back at his hands. “But yes, I used to...well, it’s been like this since childhood, really.”

Gerry’s eyes widened a little. “Since childhood?”

Michael stayed silent for a moment, considering what to say, before he started, “As a child, I used to wish I could go back in time to...prevent my existence, in some way.” An involuntary chuckle escaped him, humourless and sad. “I was a very dramatic child.” He liked to pretend that idea didn’t still follow him through his adult life, occasionally. “But I think that’s one of the reasons I never had it in me to...act...on those thoughts. I...it’s not craving death. I mean, it  _ is _ . But that’s the next best thing after I had to accept that I can’t...undo myself. That I can’t just...disappear. Fade. Have never existed.” He took a shaky breath, watching his fingers twist in his lap. He could feel the sting of tears again, but he was still hoarse from crying and only continued when he was sure he could keep them within, “If I killed myself...well, if anything that’d probably just leave the people who know me with an even stronger memory of me. I...it frightens me. To be remembered. More than my wish for everything to stop. So...I’m on the safe side. I...I know I won’t do it. I don’t have it in me, I’m sure.” A sigh as he ran his hands through his hair. “The thoughts, though...they don’t care how...ready I am to follow through with them.”

It took a moment before Michael got up the courage to look back at Gerry. His face was a mask of shock and worry and the guilt settled even deeper in Michael’s stomach. He had probably said too much, made things worse, like always. No wonder his mind kept screaming for the end. At least he couldn’t fuck up when dead. He hoped. 

“I’m-I’m sorry...that...that was too much.” He straightened up, and some tears escaped, but Michael didn’t care, not when Gerry was looking at him like that, looking...afraid. “I didn’t...I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t. I want...I want to spend more time with you. It makes me happy. _ You _ make me happy.” Michael let out a frustrated sigh, burying his face in his hands again as the sobs started again. “I don’t know why I’m like this again, I...I’m happy. Pob...probably the happiest I’ve ever been, I shouldn’t- I don’t...I.. I don’t know why...why it turned so bad now when I’m happy and- and…You...I- you ma...you make me happy, Gerry, I’m...please be...believe me, it’s not...it’s  _ not _ you, I don’t know what I….it...I-” Michael got cut off by another sob and his own heaving breathing, only making the crying worse because it was so fucking frustrating to not even be able to properly  _ speak _ , to try to  _ explain _ .

Gerry, after a moment of hesitation, put his arm around Michael’s trembling shoulders, pulling him closer. He felt strangely numb, but he had no time for that right now. 

“It’s okay, I...don’t take it personally, Michael,” he mumbled softly, gently squeezing his shoulder. “Happiness is just not the antithesis to depression.”

Michael tensed, nearly choking on a gulp of air, before managing, “I don’t know if this is depression, I never-”

“Mental health problems, if you prefer.” Gerry shrugged, really not caring for terminology right now. It didn’t matter, not with Michael like this. He rubbed his shoulder gently, before mumbling, “I just...as happy as you get, I doubt it’ll...fix...it.”

Gerry didn’t know why he said that,  _ of course _ it wasn’t the right thing to say. Michael cried harder. 

Gerry squeezed him closer, starting to feel a surge of panic at somehow managing to make this worse than it already was. “Sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t want to upset you further…”

Michael shook his head and tried to calm down, tried to focus on Gerry’s arm on his shoulder, force his heart to stop racing. Gerry pulled him closer, into his arms, and Michael tried to focus on Gerry’s heartbeat instead, not as slow and steady as it could be, but certainly better than his own. He closed his eyes and waited until he felt like he could speak again without sobbing. 

It felt like hours before Michael finally said, “No, no, you...you are probably right. I’m sorry I’m like this I- I’m sorry you had to hear this.”

“Don’t.” Gerry shook his head and shifted a little, only enough to look into Michael’s face. “Michael, I...you don’t have to go through this alone anymore, okay? I’d much rather listen than have you struggle on your own.” He gently brushed the stray blond strands out of Michael’s tear-stained face. Michael’s eyes fluttered open again, meeting his with worry. “I know this week was tough, and I’m not saying you have to come to me every time you feel off...but if you’d want to do that...I’ll always be there.”

They held each other’s gaze for a long while before Michael answered, voice still rough from crying, “Gerry, don’t...you shouldn’t do that to yourself. You don’t understand. I...it always goes in circles, the same...the same things and-”

His bottom lip was starting to shake again and Gerry put his hand against his cheek, hoping to calm him.

“I don’t care. I’d rather listen to you talk in circles than know you’re suffering alone.” Gerry frowned, trying to find the right way to explain this, to make Michael understand what he meant, that he  _ means _ it. “I...I’ve...there’s been too many moments in my life when I wished for somebody, anybody, to talk to, to support me or...or at least to listen. To even just give me a fucking hug when things felt heavy and suffocating and I felt trapped.” He shook his head. Gerry didn’t like talking about himself. “I won’t let you go through that if I can help it. Please. Trust me. If...if it gets too much, I will tell you. But until then, please try...please tell me when you feel like things are going bad again, okay? Please?”

Gerry was pleading, and the expression shocked Michael into speechlessness. He only managed to give a nod as a response, relieved when that made the desperate expression on Gerry’s face soften a little. They sat in silence for a long moment, calming down, breathing.

It was Gerry who interrupted it after a while, eyes still looking at the window on the opposite wall. It was getting dark. “Do you want me to stay tonight?”

Michael thought about it for a moment, but shook his head. “I think...I need some time to...process.”

Gerry’s eyes settled on him again, still worried. He brushed Michael’s hair behind his ear with a sigh. As much as he didn’t like the idea of leaving him alone, he felt like he needed a moment himself. “Alright. If...if you change your mind, let me know, okay?” 

He looked into Michael’s red rimmed eyes. Michael nodded. The reassuring smile he managed was a little watery, but it still made Gerry feel a better. He took one of Michael’s hands and squeezed it.

“Really?”

Michael nodded again. “Yes, I...I’m sorry I made you worry with my silence. I just...I really didn’t want to bother you with this.”

Gerry shook his head. “You wouldn’t have. Whenever you need somebody to talk...hit me up.”

Michael swallowed, but gave another nod. “I...I’ll try to be better about it.”

“Okay.” Gerry couldn’t really ask for more and settled back into the couch with a sigh. He was still trying to fit all of this new information into his picture of Michael. It fit too well and Gerry wished it wouldn’t.

“You never...your parents never brought you to a professional?” he mumbled after a while. It probably wasn’t a good idea to ask. Michael avoided talking about his family. But from what Gerry had gathered from the bits Michael volunteered, his parents sounded like the kind that would try to help with this, in their own way.

“For this?” Michael shook his head. “No.” He squeezed Gerry’s hand. “I don’t...I can’t really imagine going to a...stranger to talk about...this. I don’t...i don’t like doing so and...that...that context only makes me imagine it worse. A...always has.”

Michael sounded scared and he was clutching Gerry’s hand. Gerry really wasn’t the best at this. He squeezed his hand back, trying to sound calming, “It’s okay, I was just curious. It sounds...serious.”

“I...was a quiet child.” Michael looked at him with a sad smile.

Gerry returned it and pet his cheek. “You’re a quiet adult, too.”

Michael sighed and mumbled, “Learned to be more quiet when the one thing I decided to talk about got me stuck in a loop of medical appointments with adults trying to determine what was wrong with me.”

“The friend you mentioned…”

“Yes.” He looked ahead again, voice small when he said, “I still...sometimes, I still tell myself it’s just in my head.”

Gerry was drawing patterns on the back of his hand. “It sounds like the Spiral, Michael.”

Michael sighed. “I know that now, it’s just...after so many years? it’s hard to...break through what finally made me able to escape all those anxiety inducing appointments…”

Gerry wrapped his arms around him and squeezed him gently. “It’s okay.”

Michael hid his face in Gerry’s hair, beathed him in. He shuffled and returned the hug, holding Gerry tightly against his chest.

They were a little stiff when they tried to detangle themselves from each other later. It was late and they were both tired. Gerry asked him again if Michael didn’t want him to stay, but Michael just shook his head again. He felt better, felt like he could sit down and process all that had happened. But he needed to be alone for that. Gerry only nodded.

They said their goodbyes at the door, and Michael wished him goodnight, pressing his lips to Gerry’s forehead for a short moment. Gerry gave him a tired smile and kissed his chin before going on his way.

Gerry was still on his couch when his phone vibrated on the coffee table. He knew he wouldn't manage to sleep anytime soon, so he hadn't bothered with bed. The sudden noise put him on edge and he sat up. Michael’s name was on the screen. Michael who needed a week of getting ready before he even considered making a phone call. Gerry's heart started pounding and he was already getting his coat when he accepted the call.

"Michael? Are you...are you alright?"

"Yes." He sounded tired, but a lot more...together than he had earlier. Gerry’s shoulders relaxed a little. "I just...I wanted to thank you. For earlier. And...and also apologise. I feel...I feel like I dumped a lot on you in one afternoon…And I probably wasn't even very coherent! I'm...I'm sorry if I overwhelmed you. And...for worrying you, too."

Gerry took a moment to let that settle, to calm down. He was still holding his coat. "Do you want me to come over again?"

"No. I just...wanted to tell you this."

"Okay. It's alright, Michael. It...I admit it was a lot. But...if you hadn't said all of that...well, you know me. I would’ve asked." He sighed and put his coat back, running a hand through his hair. "Thank you for telling me anything at all."

There was a short pause, some shuffling. "I also wanted you to...to know that...I know I probably need help. P...professional help, I mean. I know I've been stubborn and...still am. If you...if it gets too much for you, you...you don’t...don't have to...stick around." 

Gerry could basically hear him biting his lip, voice laced in worry, maybe a little regret. Gerry didn’t want him to regret earlier. 

"It's okay, Michael." He considered for a moment. Maybe what he wanted to say would be more appropriate for a face to face conversation. But Michael still sounded so on edge, Gerry wanted him to know, wanted to hear his opinion on the idea. He switched the phone to his other hand for a moment, wiping the sweat off the now free hand before pressing the phone against the same ear again. "Still there?"

"Uh, yes, you...you didn't sound...finished?"

"I wasn't. I...I was thinking, and, uh...mind you, it's late so I...I don't know if I'll still think the same tomorrow, but I think I will."

"Oh?" Michael sounded surprised, which at least meant he didn’t sound so sad anymore.

"I was wondering. I know the idea of getting professional help terrifies you, and please don't take this as me pushing you. If you say no it's no and I won't speak of it again." Gerry paused for a moment to catch his breath. "But I thought...I mean do you think it would be less...daunting or- or more doable, maybe, if...if I'd go with you?"

A long silence settled. Gerry could only hope he hadn’t sent Michael spiralling again.

"You...don't have to do that to yourself for me," he whispered.

"It’s for me, too." Gerry sighed. "I’m...I’m not at my best, either, with...with everything. I don't even know what my best is. I...I want to get better, I think. I think I've wanted to for a while but I don't...well, I think I just never considered...since...a lot of the stuff is...paranormal. But I think...I think if I'd get help even only for...for...my mother. And...and such things. It might already be an improvement? I...I want to get better.” He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. “I'd like to learn to...deal with this without just...repressing and then getting into...moods."

It felt strange to say it out loud. It had felt strange to  _ think _ about it. Gerry usually cut his thoughts off as soon as they got uncomfortably close to how very poor of a grasp he truly had on his problems. He was good at keeping up a stable face for the outside, but even that had slipped more than once in Michael’s presence since they met. Whatever Gerry called coping just didn’t work when he also wanted to regularly meet up with people. Maybe it didn’t really work at all.

Michael was silent, but Gerry imagined he could feel the shock through the silence. It took a moment before he stuttered, "O...oh...o-okay." Another pause and Gerry heard some shuffling from the other end. Michael sounded a little dazed when he continued, "I’ll...I'll think about it. I don't, I'm not...sure-"

"Yeah, it's okay. Like I said, it's late, who knows how...I feel tomorrow.” Gerry rubbed the back of his head with a tired sigh. “Don't stress yourself, okay? Whenever you feel like you have an answer, you just tell me. And...well, if I change my mind, I’ll tell you. Does that sound good?"

"Okay, Gerry," he sounded a lot surer than he had when they had started the call and a relieved smile tugged at Gerry’s lips.

"Okay, Michael. Anything else? You sound like you should get some rest soon…"

He heard a soft chuckle that got interrupted by a stifled yawn, before Michael said, "That...that was all from my side. You should try to sleep, too."

"Good night, then.” Gerry smiled. “I love you."

"I love you, too." 

Michael still couldn't quite believe he was able to say those words and trust that they were interpreted right, not held against him as some sort of proof for a lie. It made him feel light and he smiled as he ended the call.


	9. Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe getting rung out of bed on a Sunday isn't always bad.
> 
> tags: FLUFF

Had Michael been more awake he probably would have ignored the door. It was Sunday, maybe morning, maybe not quite that early anymore, but one way or another Michael wasn’t expecting anyone and getting scared out of bed by the doorbell wasn’t his favourite way to wake up. It only caught up with him that he could have just turned around and ignored whoever dared to disturb him when he had already shuffled all the way to the door and opened it. He rubbed at his eyes, vaguely aware that he should have probably put on something that wasn’t his pajamas before pressing the button for the door. Too late and Michael was too tired to really care. He leaned against the wall next to his door and closed his eyes, listening for steps.

Even in his sluggish state, Michael recognised Gerry’s heavy steps. He could be surprisingly noiseless in his boots if he wanted, but when he didn’t care it was rather easy to tell. Michael frowned, trying to remember whether he forgot that they had planned something for today. He had left his phone in his room, so there was no way to check, but he at least had no recollection of it. In fact, Gerry had said he’d be busy until Wednesday, if Michael remembered correctly. His frown deepened and he poked his head out of the door as the steps approached. It  _ was _ Gerry and he looked up, grinning as he saw Michael’s sleepy eyes and messy hair.

“Slept well?” he asked as he came to a stop in front of Michael’s door.

Michael straightened up, hands coming up to try and smooth his hair, cheeks darkening as he started to become aware of how he must look despite, sleepy haze lifting with Gerry’s voice. He remembered to nod as a response.

Gerry raised an eyebrow, grin fond. “Can I come in?”

“Oh...of course.” Michael quickly stepped to the side, blush deepening. 

He watched Gerry step inside and close the door in mild confusion. He still didn’t know why he was here. Gerry watched him, clearly amused which only made Michael question whether he forgot something even more.

“Uh...did we say we’d meet up today? I thought you were busy?”

Gerry chuckled. “As if I’d ever get you to agree to meet up in the morning, Michael.” He smiled. “And I am, but it’s your birthday.” 

He pressed the bag Michael hadn’t noticed before into Michael’s hand. Michael nearly dropped it, still not quite caught up with what was happening. 

He blinked at the bag in confusion. “Oh, uh...thank you.”

“You haven’t even opened it yet.” Gerry grinned up at him and gently pet his cheek, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I’d ask whether you want a birthday kiss but your face is full of dried drool.”

Michael pulled a grimace, pushing away his hand, face burning. “Gross. Stop touching it, then.”

Gerry laughed and started walking further into the apartment. “I’ll start breakfast. Go clean up, if you want.”

Michael watched him for a moment, wondering at how cheerful of a mood Gerry seemed to be in. He gave the bag a suspicious look before making a - still tired - beeline for the bathroom with a yawn.

Michael joined Gerry in the kitchen a couple moments later looking a lot more awake and put together, though he hadn’t bothered changing. Gerry turned around when he heard the steps and smiled.

“Awake?”

“Well, I had no choice,” Michael grumbled, half-pouting.

Gerry chuckled and took his hands. “Sorry, but I just couldn’t wait to see you.” He squeezed Michael’s hands and looked up into his face. “And I do have to get back to work later, so...yeah, sorry.” He sighed, but smiled again. “Can I kiss your cheek now?” 

Michael let his forehead bump against Gerry’s, mumbling, “Better kiss the other, too, as an apology for waking me.”

Gerry didn’t bother pointing out that it was past ten when he rang the first time, which really wasn’t  _ that _ early. He pressed his lips to Michael’s right cheek, mumbling, "Sorry for waking you up at the unreasonable time of 10am." Michael’s lips pulled into a grin and Gerry pressed a lingering kiss to his other cheek. "And happy birthday."

Michael made an appreciative noise before smiling, brushing his nose against Gerry’s. "Thank you."

"Did you like your present?" Gerry asked, eyes bright and excited.

Michael blinked in confusion, "Oh, I didn't open it yet.” He looked down at his empty hands, still in Gerry’s, and mumbled, “Think I left it in the bathroom, too."

Gerry laughed. "Guess I'm more excited about it than you are."

Michael knit his brows. "Which is unsettling, to be frank."

Gerry rolled his eyes at the suspicious tone. "Oh, come on. I...I hope you’ll like it, that’s all.” He could feel the colour rising to his face and he looked away, trying to hide it. “I...uh, I don't think I...ever got anyone a gift…"

Michael’s eyes widened a little at that. "Oh…" He stroked his pink cheek with a fond smile. "I'll get it, give me a moment."

Michael only started to unpack the soft package when he was back in the kitchen. It was unnerving to watch. Gerry really didn't know if it had been a good idea, but he couldn't forget Michael’s disappointed expression that day. 

An expression of disbelief spread on his face as the wrapping revealed sunflowers on white. Michael remembered the dress from months ago, had occasionally found himself regretting not getting it, wished there had been something else - that fit him - with the same pattern so maybe he could excuse buying that instead. He didn't know why  _ Gerry _ had remembered, though.

"Gerry, that was ages ago, how did you even manage to get it…" He gently unfolded it only to realise that it wasn't the dress, but a skirt. Michael’s eyes went wide. "Where did you  _ find  _ this?"

Gerry watched everything with great interest, trying to interpret Michael’s expression the best he could. He at least didn’t look like he hated it. Mostly, he looked surprised, as far as Gerry could tell. He cleared his throat nervously before answering, "I got the dress a while ago and just, uh...made it into a skirt."

"You  _ made _ it?" Michael directed his wide eyes at him, surprise obvious in them.

Gerry couldn’t fight the blush anymore. He ran a hand through his hair, mumbling, "Uh...yeah. I...I think you said something about preferring that?"

Michael furrowed his brows for a moment, trying to remember whether he had said that out loud. He really didn’t recall. He definitely had  _ thought  _ it, though.

He nodded, looking at the skirt, running his fingers over the fabric. "Well, I...I did. I assumed then it wouldn't have the...fitting problem."

Gerry gave a shy smile, "I sure hope it doesn't, but try it on maybe? If there's something off I might be able to fix it…"

Michael stared at him for a moment, stunned by seeing such an expression on his face. It looked adorable, and Michael smiled, widely. It only made Gerry blush more. 

"I will!" Michael nodded, before turning around and leaving the kitchen, steps a lot more energetic than they had been a moment before.

Gerry turned back to the breakfast he was preparing, trying to calm his heart. Michael looked excited, happy even. So it had been a good idea. Gerry smiled at the thought that he managed to make Michael so happy with something so small. His worries had obviously been unnecessary. Gerry felt good, felt warm at the memory of Michael’s stunned face. It made him chuckle to himself.

Gerry turned around when he heard Michael’s steps approach again, a smile on his lips as he saw Michael’s smiling face. He looked at Gerry with crinkling eyes as he smoothed the skirt, looking down at himself. He had put on a light, yellow sweater, the front part of his hair pulled into a somewhat messy bun. He looked radiant, and Gerry was sure it wasn’t just the colour.

“So...you like it?” Gerry tried, not wanting to assume, but at the same time struggling to keep the satisfied grin off his lips.

Michael beamed at him. "Gerry, it's perfect!"

Gerry couldn’t not grin at that. "Turn around." Michael seemed confused for a moment, before his eyes brightened up with realisation. He twirled, giggling as the fabric flowed with the movement. Gerry smiled. "You look great"

Michael came to a stop and chuckled, "I  _ feel _ great."

Gerry winked. "Then it was no waste of money." 

Michael had to laugh and Gerry joined in after a moment.

"I didn't know you knew how to sew…" Michael mumbled, brushing his hair behind his ear.

Gerry crossed his arms in front of his chest with a grin. “If you want to look as extra as I did in my teens, you do good in learning your way around a needle.” 

Michael raised both eyebrows, a small grin on his lips. “Wait, even  _ more _ extra than now?”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

They fell back into laughter and snickering, and Michael was glad he was awake for this, now, even if it cut his sleeping-in-on-Sunday short. This was better than sleep.

"Breakfast is done, by the way,” Gerry said between chuckles. He nodded towards the empty table. “You can sit down, I’ll set the table."

Michael shook his head, wiping a tear away that escaped with all the laughter. Gerry was used to him crying whenever he laughed a lot by now, but it still made him worry for a moment, fleeting as he remembered that nothing was wrong. 

It was easy to remember with Michael’s bright smile directed at him, "I'll help you with the table."

He was already moving towards the fridge before Gerry could stop him, so he just shrugged, smiling. "Or that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we reached the end and I hope you enjoyed, if not all, maybe one of the shorts :)  
> I might come back to this au in the future, I am rather fond of it...but right now, it's honestly just making me Yearn real bad to work on it and I need a break from it   
> (I mean I also don't have any ideas for what to write so...yeah.)
> 
> Have a lovely day or whichever it is for you! :)


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